Date: Mon, 09 Dec 2002 00:47:36 -0500
From: Jeff Wilson
Subject: W.A.R. Part II Chapter 4
What? You don't like bowling? Must be the reason I got such an
overwhelming response... One letter. One glorious wonderful letter. Oh
yeah! That ego's going down faster than a blonde on prom
nigh... er... never mind. Remember, if you think I'm writing crap, the
least you can do is tell me. That's better seeing that big zero on the ol'
hotmail account. They're not even sending me ads for penis enlargers
anymore! And all my junk mail is written in Korean or something. What's
up with that?
Words of Warning: Okay, that's kind of a joke up there... I really did
only get one letter. But I know you have lives and all, so it's okay.
It's rather funny. In a sad, "You're a loser, Jeff" kind of way.
Anyway this story still still doesn't have any sex in it. If you find
stories without sex to be offensive then please read no further. If
stories with no sex in them are illegal in your state or country, then
please hit the "Back" button on your computer screen. Someday, trust me,
these boys are gonna fuck like bunnies. But until then I hope you find the
story somewhat entertaining.
W.A.R. Part Two: Cold Winter
Chapter 4: The Long Way Home
by Jeff Wilson
It was deathly quiet in the car on the way home. Brett sat in the
backseat behind my dad next to Joey. Dustin sat behind me. I sat in the
front seat holding a bag of ice up to my mouth which was still bleeding and
hurt like hell. I sure hope I don't need stitches! Nobody was saying
anything, which was really weird. I could see Brett in the rear view
mirror from where I was sitting. He was just staring out the window.
Every once in a while he would sniffle. He never looked up to the mirror.
He just looked out the window.
We stopped at Dustin's first. He thanked my dad for the ride and me
for asking him to come. Then he told Joey he'd see him later. He didn't
say anything to Brett, who just continued to stare out the window. Joey
scooted into Dustin's spot in the back.
Next we stopped at Joey's house. Joey thanked us for the bowling and
said he hoped my mouth was okay. Then he ran up to his house. So it was
just me, Brett, and dad. Brett just continued to look out the window. I
wondered where dad would go next. Would he just go to drop me off at home
first, or would he take Brett home? Brett was supposed to come over to my
house. But at this point, that didn't seem likely.
The sniffling from the back seat was getting more frequent. I looked
into the mirror again. Brett was still looking out the window. But now,
he was crying. He was actually crying. I hadn't seen him actually cry in
a long time. In fact, the last time I can remember him crying was once
when I clobbered him over the head with a waffle bat when we were ten years
old. That was just an accident. But we'd hurt each other on purpose this
time.
My dad must not have been able to decide which way he wanted to go.
He was just driving through town aimlessly. I looked over at him. He was
just staring at the road with yet another cigarette dwindling down to
ashes. He had to hear the sobbing coming from the backseat. It was
killing me to hear it. I knew it was my fault. I hurt him when I said
those words. Now this was the result of what I'd done. I made him cry.
He never cried, but I made him. I hated myself for it.
My dad flicked his cigarette butt out the window. He looked over at
me. I looked at him. He smiled at me then looked back at the road.
"Are you okay back there?" He asked. My dad always had a way of
getting Brett to talk to him. I'd asked Brett if he was okay for months,
and he always shut down. Not this time.
"I'm... I'm... I don't know..." He sobbed.
"Brett, where do you want to go?"
"I don't want to go home." Brett said sternly through his tears.
"You sure?"
"Yes..." He was still sniffling, but he was calming down.
"You want to come to our house?" Dad asked. I my head, even though
he'd hit me, I was begging for him to say yes.
"If you guys still want me to..."
My dad lit another cigarette. It was raining now. The kind of rain
that is almost snow, but not quite. I looked at dad again. I could tell
he was thinking. He was trying to find a way to keep both of us safe, to
make us both happy. But still, I was hurt, and he wasn't sure what had
happened.
"Well, I don't mind. But before I say yes, I want you to answer one
question for me. I want to know why you hit Billy."
He sobbed as he answered. "Because I was mad at him."
"Why?"
"Because I was being a stupid dick."
"I find that hard to believe." Dad said.
"I was! I am stupid!! I fucked up everything! I'm a no good
bastard!! Everybody knows it!" Brett said, his voice getting louder.
"Who told you that?"
"Everybody. Everybody hates me. And you know what? I hate myself,
too!"
"Why?"
"Because of my... Because..." He suddenly got very serious. "If I
tell you something, a secret, will you promise never to tell anybody, ever,
in your whole life, not even Mrs. Roberts?"
"That depends what the secret is Brett. Why don't you just tell me?"
"I... I know who my father is." He almost whispered it. It took me a
minute to realize what he actually said. But when I figured it out, I got
a very uneasy feeling.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" My dad asked.
"Bad..."
I was really confused now. I thought he'd be happy to know who is
father was. Why would that be a bad thing? Something was very wrong here.
My dad continued driving around aimlessly. We passed the same gas station
three times.
"Okay, so why is that a bad thing?"
"Because I know what he did. Because he's a fucking piece of crap!"
He started to sob again. My dad adjusted the mirror to look back at him.
"What? Ow! Ow!!" My dad's cigarette fell out of his mouth and landed
in his lap. It would have been funny if Brett hadn't just said what he
did. He picked it up and threw it out the window. Then hit lit another
one. .
"He's a no good son of a bitch! He went to jail." Brett continued
"What for?" My dad asked the question I was thinking in my head.
"Because he raped somebody. He went to jail. He was there for twelve
years and now he's out. He got out back in August. I'm gonna kill him if
he ever finds us."
"Does your mother know that you know?"
"Yes."
"Has she gotten any help?"
"He doesn't even know where we live. It happened up in New York when
she was in grad school. She had me after she was done with school. When
they caught him, she didn't tell anybody that I was his."
I was super confused now. Why wouldn't she tell anybody who his dad
was? Why would he get arrested for rape if he was in love with... Oh...
OH!!! Oh my GOD!!! That light bulb suddenly clicked on in my head again.
I realized exactly what happened. He raped Brett's mom! He raped Brett's
mom, then she got pregnant and had Brett!! And then Brett found out about
it in August. That was just too fucked up!! Brett's dad was a rapist...
No wonder he's been acting so weird.
"I was a mistake. I shouldn't have even been born. My mom should
have just aborted me. I wish I never was born." Brett wailed. He had
shared his deepest darkest secret and now all the emotion that he'd kept
inside was beginning to emerge.
"Have you ever told your mother that?" Dad asked.
"No, I've never told anybody that." Brett said, beginning to calm
down.
"Do you think that that would make your mom happy?"
"Sometimes..."
My dad flipped his cigarette out the window and lit another one. My
mom would have killed him if she'd have seen that. The only time I'd seen
him smoke so much was at my grandma's funeral. I hate when he does it. He
knows they're bad for him. Dad seemed to be searching for the right words
to say.
"Well, I can tell you for certain that it wouldn't. She loves you
more than anything. And you know what, so do we! We don't care who your
father is. We sure don't care what he did. We love you for who you are!
So there's no reason that you should feel bad about it either.
Understand?"
"You love me? But I hit Billy..."
"That was wrong, no question. But you can't judge somebody based on
one bad thing that they did. We all have things in our lives that we're
not proud of. Some of them you can control, others you can't. You can
feel bad about hitting Billy. You can tell him you're sorry and mean what
you say. Then you move on. But you can't feel sorry for something that
happened before you were born. That would be like me being upset because
I've been a diabetic since I was a little kid. There was nothing anyone
could do about it. I just had to learn to live with it. Your mom is most
likely dealing with what she went through everyday. The last thing she
would want is for you to be upset about it. I'll tell you what: If you
ever need someone to talk to, man to man, don't keep it inside like you've
been doing. I'm here for you, just like I am for Billy. Never be afraid
to come talk to me, okay boy?"
"Yes sir."
"Good. Now, let's go home."
The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Brett laid down on the
backseat. My dad took a long drag on his cigarette. For the first time in
my life I wanted to have one, too.
So there it is... Brett's big secret. Or is it? Chapter Five:
Punishment is next. Probably Thursday or Friday. (Unless I only get one
stinking letter again!) So tell me what you think. (Just kidding. It
will be Thursday or Friday) Send your comments to:
vicioussquirrel@hotmail.com
Okay?